Timestamp: Autumn 21, 513 AV
The market was bustling with life and colour, lanterns strung high illuminating the streets. The crowed was smaller than what it usually was, a dancing show in another region of the city most likely calling attention. Sana's eyes darted from stall to stall, making a mental note of costs and quality, keeping her purse close as she travelled through the sea of people. "Come on," She told herself, realising she was drifting towards a sweet smell, "You have priorities." She sighed and dug into her pockets, retrieving a crumpled piece of paper she'd nicked from Armitican, on in a short, scrawled list. Gloves (Climbing, fingerless), inks/dye (Glyphing), hair ties, shoes, Journals, quills.
She took in a deep breath, and examined her surroundings. She'd moved much further into the thick of the markets, then, and stalls were far more ornate and items expensive. The area served as a good indicator as to how much was too much, especially in regards to the more remedial items. She felt a jar in the shoulder, and panic swept over her as she tightened her drip on her purse. Her backpack was safe, she presumed, having emptied much of its contents before she left the respite, and keeping it concealed beneath her cloak. 'False alarm,' she thought, eyes finding the culprit - a plump old woman with a cocky expression, the crowed parting for her like she was out for blood. She looked somewhat familiar, her greasy black hair shining purple in the lantern's light, her clothes gold and silver and ridiculously ornate. 'Looks like I've already spotted one of the many marvels of the Azure Market, and I've only been here for a few chimes.'
She mentally berated herself and drove forward, music and laughter growing louder to her left, the temptation almost too great as she turned the other wat. Stalls were swiftly becoming less elaborate, and the crowds thinned out significantly. A stall of studying and school goods caught her eyes, and made a beeline for a section that looked like blank journals. The attendant was a middle aged man, eyes weary and expression less than chipper, but he lit up some when he saw Sana approach. Most of the books were leather or wood covered, simple patterns and colours giving a lighter look to their rough bindings. Nothing overly expensive she wagered, but neither would they be as cheap as paper backs. 'I'll only really need them for taking notes, so I think these should do just fine.'
"Is there anything I can help you with?" The man asked, the curve of his lips oddly sincere.
"Yes, please. Could I please have…" she began, tilting her head from side to side, eyes scanning the wares.
She spotted a book whose wooden cover was an array of greens, and felt her gaze linger there. "That one, and…" She searched the pile for another book, with time landing on two that sat side by side, one a ripple of reds and oranges, the other light blues and greens, "and those two, please." She tried to keep her mind fixed on the transaction, before a flourish of gold and bronze could her eye. It was much like the other books in style, binding, and texture, but patterning was rich and ornate. She sighed, "And that one, as well."
She took out her purse, and readied herself to take the damage, knowing well that she'd over spent what she'd intended for books; especially since the painting and decorating of the wood meant the owner would try and shake her down for an extra kina per book, at least. She glanced up at the man, and raised an eyebrow. "What is the best price you could give them to me for?" She had no idea what she was doing, but she'd seen others do it - people who were so practiced in persuasion and rhetoric that they could get their wares for almost half the price just by batting their eyelashes a little bit. "I don't mean to be an annoyance" she continued, narrowing her eyes and biting her lip, making out to be severely uncomfortable with herself, something not too difficult since she was not too far off the genuine feeling, "I'm just a student and a little hard on cash." 'How am I so bad at this? 'I'm just a poor student, pit me'?'
The man sighed and scratched his head, looking to the back of the stall before returning his gaze to Sana. "I know, kid, I know. Just keep at it and you'll be fine. The best I can give you is a couple of kina, I’m not fairing all that well, either." He looked sad, and worried, and Sana felt a sickness lurch in her stomach.
She nodded twice, and gave him a sorry, winsome smile. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
She completed the transaction with a pit of regret in her stomach, handing over the 12 kina. ‘Why did the first guy I ran into have to be so damn nice? Why couldn’t he have just been one those snivelling narcissists?’ "I'm sorry, but would you be able to do me another favour?" she asked, loading her bag with her wares, "Would you be able to point me in a direction that I could find shoes? Something sturdy and practical? Preferably not all that expensive?” She’d have asked him where to find gloves, had she not felt so rotten at the thought.
The man nodded slowly, pointing a finger to a side alley that seemed to run parallel to the centre of the markets. "Your best bet is that way, things won’t be overly cheap, but it’s worth the extra kina or two.”
Sana nodded thoughtfully and bowed her head at the man, “Thanks again.”
He waved her off with a smile, and Sana slung her bag back over her shoulders, making quick of journey through the alley, learned in the art of keeping her head down and avoiding the perfume-stall-attendant-ninjas that caught the unsuspecting in their noxious smelling traps. She caught a glimpse of a fine lace glove, and stopped all too abruptly in the centre of the alley, brushes against her shoulders and grumbling as people diverted their paths around her. ‘I guess it’s worth a shot’ , she thought, weaving through the stream of passer-byers. It looked like a more ornate stall, with a vast collection of delicate gloves and decorative gear, with only a small number of gloves that appeared to be of any use.
“Excuse me?” Sana called, before a woman turned her attention towards her. “What do you know about these gloves? For climbing and what not?”
The woman was already walking towards her when she finished her sentence, but stopped and turned by the end of it. “My sister,” she said, pointing across the alley to a stall another four down. “Speak to her, she’s all that kind of stuff, not me.”
Sana followed the woman’s gaze, nodding curtly as she spied the store in question, “Thank you.”
She pressed through the crowds, already annoyed at her lack of progress, having hoped to be almost done and dusted in the hunting of goods by that bell. She spied a muscular woman with her back turned, short brown hair tumbling just above her shoulders. “Excuse me?” Sana called, too impatient to wait until she was at the stall, “But I was told to come to you about climbing goods?”
The woman flinched and turned, a smile set into her rough expression, “We have more than that, but I’m assuming you’re a specialty buyer?”
Sana was a little overwhelmed, but nodded along regardless, “I suppose you could say that – what have you got? I’m on a tight budget.”
The woman roared with laughter, “Aren’t we all, these days?”
Sana raised an eyebrow, unsure whether she exactly knew what the woman was referring to, but nodded along in agreement anyway.
“What line of work do you find yourself in? We can set you up for almost any profession, and we don’t ask too many questions.”
“No,” Sana said, thoughts floundering “Hobby – it’s for a hobby, I climb as a hobby.”
“Mhmm,” the woman replied, sorting through some unseen merchandise below. “Most people prefer not to wear gloves. It dulls the senses on the palm, pretty shoddy grip too, and they’re a pain if you find yourself in an emergency. People aren’t going to wait for you to get ready. Callouses are pretty good to have.” The woman looked Sana up and down, “Well, they’re pretty good as long as you don’t mind your hands becoming as rough as a blacksmith’s.” She then glanced down at Sana’s own hands, taking her right and examining the blisters and roughness. “Nice, looks like you’ve been at it for a while. But then again, you’re an Inarta, aren’t you? Shouldn’t be surprised. You people are as gutsy as you are skilled. Good attitude.”
Sana opened her mouth to refute the woman’s claims, before thinking better of herself and closing it, “My mother is Inarta, my father a traveller.” She said simply, taking the time to check out the rest of the stall.
She wasn’t all surprised to see it hold more of the roguish typed wares, with what looked like arm guards and smaller, accessory armours studding the place. From what she knew of her father and sister’s smithing, it seemed to be of high quality. “Did you forge these?” Sana asked, almost sceptical.
“Some, my partner is of higher skill than me, however. Ah, here we are.”
The woman preceded to pull up a woven box of left gloves, grinning madly. She was bright enough to only present a single glove of each pair, mindful of thieves.
“Hot off the forge, we weren’t planning on selling these until the other,” she nodded her head towards her sister’s store, “were sold out… but if we have a special request, then there’s no harm done. Besides, only the more crudely done craft have been left behind, these are real quality.”
Sana frowned, but found her interest piqued in the wares in front of her.
“They vary from 3-5 kina each, I’m not so daft as to rip off my customers, but these had to be altered a lot from the basic, traditional set. It’s hard to make a light glove like this, it has to be more flexible than one for simply boxing, however I have to admit, most of these are rather multipurpose.” She fixed a hard look on Sana, “The base leather is thinner, and the styles vary in regard to fingers, we have mittens, full fingers, half finger, and a combination. They’re each made to a certain size, most we make are custom, so you’d be best trying them on and narrowing down the selection to a few.” The woman looked to the right, and another customer hailed her over. “Call me once you’ve up your mind.”
Sana gave the woman a nod, and then turned her attention to the selection of gear in front of her.
They were all of finer make than the store before, that was true, so she was far from worrying about the worth of the extra kina. There were only half a dozen or so, and she could see several already whose style were unfavourable to climbing. She eyed off one of the smaller gloves. It was of deep mahogany colouration, almost black in the dim lighting. She picked up the right glove, taking note of it. The back of the hand was thicker than the rest, padded on the inside but with a certain hardness on the outside, perhaps even attributed to a thin sheet of metal, if the forger was so skilled. ‘For fighting?’ She wondered, having seen similar design on common boxing gloves. She was sceptical of its use and flexibility, and quickly tugged it on, surprised with how form fitting it was. It had a short cuff, and a draw string that she assumed would pull it tighter. She let her curiosity get the better of her, and pulled it hard, finding the snugness of the glove increase right to the fingers. She frowned and flexed her hand, surprised at the movement allowed for such fit.
She gave a quick look at her fingers, finding that it was only around a quarter to a third of them that were covered, and that she would still be able to use them to assess the grip and texture of whatever she would need. She ran her left pointer down her palm gauging its thickness and grip. The leather there was rough, she found, and although not a pleasant feeling to touch, it’d be useful for doing what she wanted. Her last little test was the most critical, with the woman pressed her hand hard onto the bench, and gauging how much slip she could expect. She was pleased with her findings, the make of the glove fitting almost perfectly to the width of her palm, and alleviating worry that she’d slip on a climb.
She then glanced at the other gloves, eyes passing over and lingering on one of similar design, but not fussed on the fullness of the fingers. Upon further examination, she found it to be less flexible, as well, pushing Sana to make what seemed like an obvious choice. “Excuse me,” She called, scolding herself for not checking on what the brunette was up to, only then realising she was tending to another customer. Sana sent them an apologetic small, and exhaled. It was another few moments until the woman was back. “I will assume that that is the choice you’ve made?”
“Yes, how much?”
“4 kina for that one, love,” She said, bringing up the left from beneath the table.
“Done,”
She made the transaction quick, giving exact change before grabbing the other glove and slipping it on, still a long list of gear in need of buying.
She found a store that sold the kind of boots she needed soon after, the little section she’d wandered into rich in clothing and armours. She’d picked out a stall targeting women, a vast array of shoes and clothing, with several sister stores across the alley. There were a number of other people in the store in particular, with the own rather bedazzled an overwhelmed, running about like a madman. “Boots,” she said to herself, almost missing the small section. “I’ll have to go for low…” she mumbled, finding the base pair soon after. “High is bad for climbing,” she reasoned, not particularly caring that she looked most absurd talking to herself. She sought a medium pair, and slid them on with too much ease, and quickly began moving her feet about. “I’ll need smaller, but not exactly a small…” she murmured, unsurprised, eyes scanning the display for a smaller pair.
“I am so sorry for the wait, is there anything I can do to assist you?” it was a man’s voice, tired and weary.
“Yes, could I please have a medium pair of low boots, but a smaller make?”
“Modifiers?”
“What do you offer?”
He gestured to a coarsely written list by the counter, “Only what is listed.”
Sana frowned and read the list, deciding after some debate and looks off annoyance, “Simple buckles and chains, ramie, and dyed, please. Good condition.” ‘Looks like I have completely given up on the idea of saving money. Looks like I won’t be going out again this season.’
The man nodded, “This way, it’ll take a moment.”
She stood awkwardly the counter, grabbing her purse and making the calculations mentally. ‘Boots are 3, buckles 10, dying 2, and ramie 1.5… that should be 4 and a half kina. Not too bad.
“4 and a half kina please,” the man said, dropping the boots on the counter in front.
“Anyway I can convince you to drop it to 4 and a quarter?”
“None.”
“Fair enough,” Sana said, giving him 5 and having to awkwardly await the change.
“Have a nice evening.”
She gave the man a curt nod, and jammed the boots into her bag, noticing that there was little room left.
She’d scarcely made it out of the store before she spotted something of interest in a clothing store, ‘Looks like I’m going to be broke by dawn.’ It wasn’t as well dressed or well put together as the store she’d just visited, but it seemed nice enough. More than anything, however, it was a blouse that struck her eye. ‘I’m sure I can afford to dress a little nicer, right? I can always just do another shift in the kitchens to make up lost earnings… Oh, and only wear my simple clothing on climbs.’ She paused at a fine white shirt, before falling prey to the rest of the store’s garments and clothing. She could scarcely help herself, having already spent a season in her plain frayed, clothing. She exhaled deeply as an attendant came to her, “Have you decided on any wares?”
“Uh, yes.” She said, regretting her day of spending before it was even over. “Could I please have the damasked, linen shirt, and the fine wool, embroidered pants?”
The woman raised an eyebrow, “Is that all today?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“That will be 2.4 and 6.4, coming to a total of 8.8 kina,”
“Here,” she said, clenching her jaw as she brought the clothing. ‘Please don’t have me forget this in the morning’
Sana left the store before she could spend anymore, this time throwing herself into the thick of the wave of people, riding along in the current until the clothing and accessory stores were well and truly out of her reach. ‘I still need ink for writing and inscribing, and a quill… as well as hair ties.’ . She supposed that she must have been about for at least a bell, with the crowds garnering their pre-midnight rest numbers. It was cooler, as well, and as she weaved through the alleys and the seas of people, she pulled her cloak closer as she moved, partly protecting her dwindling supplies of money, partly fending herself from the bite of the breeze. She kept her eyes darting from store to store, already bypassing a dozen elaborate stores with exuberant prices. Her eyes caught sight of a simple set up, and slowly drifted towards it, an array of quills and inks on proud display. ‘Where was this a bell ago?’
She picked up a quill, and carefully studied it, mindful of how many could be brought broken or damaged. Quickly she hailed over the attendant, and ordered a single quill and jar of ink.
“1 kina, 5 ck.”
She gave a curt nod, handing over the coins before spying something of interest. “Is that inscribing paint?”
The man frowned and turned, grabbing the product off the high shelf, “that’ll bring you up to 4 kina, 5 ck.”
Sana didn’t bother speaking that time, she handing him exact change and turned on her heal, mindful not to spill the contents of the ink jar as she briskly made her way back to the respite. ‘This is the last time I go to the markets with a full purse.’
The market was bustling with life and colour, lanterns strung high illuminating the streets. The crowed was smaller than what it usually was, a dancing show in another region of the city most likely calling attention. Sana's eyes darted from stall to stall, making a mental note of costs and quality, keeping her purse close as she travelled through the sea of people. "Come on," She told herself, realising she was drifting towards a sweet smell, "You have priorities." She sighed and dug into her pockets, retrieving a crumpled piece of paper she'd nicked from Armitican, on in a short, scrawled list. Gloves (Climbing, fingerless), inks/dye (Glyphing), hair ties, shoes, Journals, quills.
She took in a deep breath, and examined her surroundings. She'd moved much further into the thick of the markets, then, and stalls were far more ornate and items expensive. The area served as a good indicator as to how much was too much, especially in regards to the more remedial items. She felt a jar in the shoulder, and panic swept over her as she tightened her drip on her purse. Her backpack was safe, she presumed, having emptied much of its contents before she left the respite, and keeping it concealed beneath her cloak. 'False alarm,' she thought, eyes finding the culprit - a plump old woman with a cocky expression, the crowed parting for her like she was out for blood. She looked somewhat familiar, her greasy black hair shining purple in the lantern's light, her clothes gold and silver and ridiculously ornate. 'Looks like I've already spotted one of the many marvels of the Azure Market, and I've only been here for a few chimes.'
She mentally berated herself and drove forward, music and laughter growing louder to her left, the temptation almost too great as she turned the other wat. Stalls were swiftly becoming less elaborate, and the crowds thinned out significantly. A stall of studying and school goods caught her eyes, and made a beeline for a section that looked like blank journals. The attendant was a middle aged man, eyes weary and expression less than chipper, but he lit up some when he saw Sana approach. Most of the books were leather or wood covered, simple patterns and colours giving a lighter look to their rough bindings. Nothing overly expensive she wagered, but neither would they be as cheap as paper backs. 'I'll only really need them for taking notes, so I think these should do just fine.'
"Is there anything I can help you with?" The man asked, the curve of his lips oddly sincere.
"Yes, please. Could I please have…" she began, tilting her head from side to side, eyes scanning the wares.
She spotted a book whose wooden cover was an array of greens, and felt her gaze linger there. "That one, and…" She searched the pile for another book, with time landing on two that sat side by side, one a ripple of reds and oranges, the other light blues and greens, "and those two, please." She tried to keep her mind fixed on the transaction, before a flourish of gold and bronze could her eye. It was much like the other books in style, binding, and texture, but patterning was rich and ornate. She sighed, "And that one, as well."
She took out her purse, and readied herself to take the damage, knowing well that she'd over spent what she'd intended for books; especially since the painting and decorating of the wood meant the owner would try and shake her down for an extra kina per book, at least. She glanced up at the man, and raised an eyebrow. "What is the best price you could give them to me for?" She had no idea what she was doing, but she'd seen others do it - people who were so practiced in persuasion and rhetoric that they could get their wares for almost half the price just by batting their eyelashes a little bit. "I don't mean to be an annoyance" she continued, narrowing her eyes and biting her lip, making out to be severely uncomfortable with herself, something not too difficult since she was not too far off the genuine feeling, "I'm just a student and a little hard on cash." 'How am I so bad at this? 'I'm just a poor student, pit me'?'
The man sighed and scratched his head, looking to the back of the stall before returning his gaze to Sana. "I know, kid, I know. Just keep at it and you'll be fine. The best I can give you is a couple of kina, I’m not fairing all that well, either." He looked sad, and worried, and Sana felt a sickness lurch in her stomach.
She nodded twice, and gave him a sorry, winsome smile. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
She completed the transaction with a pit of regret in her stomach, handing over the 12 kina. ‘Why did the first guy I ran into have to be so damn nice? Why couldn’t he have just been one those snivelling narcissists?’ "I'm sorry, but would you be able to do me another favour?" she asked, loading her bag with her wares, "Would you be able to point me in a direction that I could find shoes? Something sturdy and practical? Preferably not all that expensive?” She’d have asked him where to find gloves, had she not felt so rotten at the thought.
The man nodded slowly, pointing a finger to a side alley that seemed to run parallel to the centre of the markets. "Your best bet is that way, things won’t be overly cheap, but it’s worth the extra kina or two.”
Sana nodded thoughtfully and bowed her head at the man, “Thanks again.”
He waved her off with a smile, and Sana slung her bag back over her shoulders, making quick of journey through the alley, learned in the art of keeping her head down and avoiding the perfume-stall-attendant-ninjas that caught the unsuspecting in their noxious smelling traps. She caught a glimpse of a fine lace glove, and stopped all too abruptly in the centre of the alley, brushes against her shoulders and grumbling as people diverted their paths around her. ‘I guess it’s worth a shot’ , she thought, weaving through the stream of passer-byers. It looked like a more ornate stall, with a vast collection of delicate gloves and decorative gear, with only a small number of gloves that appeared to be of any use.
“Excuse me?” Sana called, before a woman turned her attention towards her. “What do you know about these gloves? For climbing and what not?”
The woman was already walking towards her when she finished her sentence, but stopped and turned by the end of it. “My sister,” she said, pointing across the alley to a stall another four down. “Speak to her, she’s all that kind of stuff, not me.”
Sana followed the woman’s gaze, nodding curtly as she spied the store in question, “Thank you.”
She pressed through the crowds, already annoyed at her lack of progress, having hoped to be almost done and dusted in the hunting of goods by that bell. She spied a muscular woman with her back turned, short brown hair tumbling just above her shoulders. “Excuse me?” Sana called, too impatient to wait until she was at the stall, “But I was told to come to you about climbing goods?”
The woman flinched and turned, a smile set into her rough expression, “We have more than that, but I’m assuming you’re a specialty buyer?”
Sana was a little overwhelmed, but nodded along regardless, “I suppose you could say that – what have you got? I’m on a tight budget.”
The woman roared with laughter, “Aren’t we all, these days?”
Sana raised an eyebrow, unsure whether she exactly knew what the woman was referring to, but nodded along in agreement anyway.
“What line of work do you find yourself in? We can set you up for almost any profession, and we don’t ask too many questions.”
“No,” Sana said, thoughts floundering “Hobby – it’s for a hobby, I climb as a hobby.”
“Mhmm,” the woman replied, sorting through some unseen merchandise below. “Most people prefer not to wear gloves. It dulls the senses on the palm, pretty shoddy grip too, and they’re a pain if you find yourself in an emergency. People aren’t going to wait for you to get ready. Callouses are pretty good to have.” The woman looked Sana up and down, “Well, they’re pretty good as long as you don’t mind your hands becoming as rough as a blacksmith’s.” She then glanced down at Sana’s own hands, taking her right and examining the blisters and roughness. “Nice, looks like you’ve been at it for a while. But then again, you’re an Inarta, aren’t you? Shouldn’t be surprised. You people are as gutsy as you are skilled. Good attitude.”
Sana opened her mouth to refute the woman’s claims, before thinking better of herself and closing it, “My mother is Inarta, my father a traveller.” She said simply, taking the time to check out the rest of the stall.
She wasn’t all surprised to see it hold more of the roguish typed wares, with what looked like arm guards and smaller, accessory armours studding the place. From what she knew of her father and sister’s smithing, it seemed to be of high quality. “Did you forge these?” Sana asked, almost sceptical.
“Some, my partner is of higher skill than me, however. Ah, here we are.”
The woman preceded to pull up a woven box of left gloves, grinning madly. She was bright enough to only present a single glove of each pair, mindful of thieves.
“Hot off the forge, we weren’t planning on selling these until the other,” she nodded her head towards her sister’s store, “were sold out… but if we have a special request, then there’s no harm done. Besides, only the more crudely done craft have been left behind, these are real quality.”
Sana frowned, but found her interest piqued in the wares in front of her.
“They vary from 3-5 kina each, I’m not so daft as to rip off my customers, but these had to be altered a lot from the basic, traditional set. It’s hard to make a light glove like this, it has to be more flexible than one for simply boxing, however I have to admit, most of these are rather multipurpose.” She fixed a hard look on Sana, “The base leather is thinner, and the styles vary in regard to fingers, we have mittens, full fingers, half finger, and a combination. They’re each made to a certain size, most we make are custom, so you’d be best trying them on and narrowing down the selection to a few.” The woman looked to the right, and another customer hailed her over. “Call me once you’ve up your mind.”
Sana gave the woman a nod, and then turned her attention to the selection of gear in front of her.
They were all of finer make than the store before, that was true, so she was far from worrying about the worth of the extra kina. There were only half a dozen or so, and she could see several already whose style were unfavourable to climbing. She eyed off one of the smaller gloves. It was of deep mahogany colouration, almost black in the dim lighting. She picked up the right glove, taking note of it. The back of the hand was thicker than the rest, padded on the inside but with a certain hardness on the outside, perhaps even attributed to a thin sheet of metal, if the forger was so skilled. ‘For fighting?’ She wondered, having seen similar design on common boxing gloves. She was sceptical of its use and flexibility, and quickly tugged it on, surprised with how form fitting it was. It had a short cuff, and a draw string that she assumed would pull it tighter. She let her curiosity get the better of her, and pulled it hard, finding the snugness of the glove increase right to the fingers. She frowned and flexed her hand, surprised at the movement allowed for such fit.
She gave a quick look at her fingers, finding that it was only around a quarter to a third of them that were covered, and that she would still be able to use them to assess the grip and texture of whatever she would need. She ran her left pointer down her palm gauging its thickness and grip. The leather there was rough, she found, and although not a pleasant feeling to touch, it’d be useful for doing what she wanted. Her last little test was the most critical, with the woman pressed her hand hard onto the bench, and gauging how much slip she could expect. She was pleased with her findings, the make of the glove fitting almost perfectly to the width of her palm, and alleviating worry that she’d slip on a climb.
She then glanced at the other gloves, eyes passing over and lingering on one of similar design, but not fussed on the fullness of the fingers. Upon further examination, she found it to be less flexible, as well, pushing Sana to make what seemed like an obvious choice. “Excuse me,” She called, scolding herself for not checking on what the brunette was up to, only then realising she was tending to another customer. Sana sent them an apologetic small, and exhaled. It was another few moments until the woman was back. “I will assume that that is the choice you’ve made?”
“Yes, how much?”
“4 kina for that one, love,” She said, bringing up the left from beneath the table.
“Done,”
She made the transaction quick, giving exact change before grabbing the other glove and slipping it on, still a long list of gear in need of buying.
She found a store that sold the kind of boots she needed soon after, the little section she’d wandered into rich in clothing and armours. She’d picked out a stall targeting women, a vast array of shoes and clothing, with several sister stores across the alley. There were a number of other people in the store in particular, with the own rather bedazzled an overwhelmed, running about like a madman. “Boots,” she said to herself, almost missing the small section. “I’ll have to go for low…” she mumbled, finding the base pair soon after. “High is bad for climbing,” she reasoned, not particularly caring that she looked most absurd talking to herself. She sought a medium pair, and slid them on with too much ease, and quickly began moving her feet about. “I’ll need smaller, but not exactly a small…” she murmured, unsurprised, eyes scanning the display for a smaller pair.
“I am so sorry for the wait, is there anything I can do to assist you?” it was a man’s voice, tired and weary.
“Yes, could I please have a medium pair of low boots, but a smaller make?”
“Modifiers?”
“What do you offer?”
He gestured to a coarsely written list by the counter, “Only what is listed.”
Sana frowned and read the list, deciding after some debate and looks off annoyance, “Simple buckles and chains, ramie, and dyed, please. Good condition.” ‘Looks like I have completely given up on the idea of saving money. Looks like I won’t be going out again this season.’
The man nodded, “This way, it’ll take a moment.”
She stood awkwardly the counter, grabbing her purse and making the calculations mentally. ‘Boots are 3, buckles 10, dying 2, and ramie 1.5… that should be 4 and a half kina. Not too bad.
“4 and a half kina please,” the man said, dropping the boots on the counter in front.
“Anyway I can convince you to drop it to 4 and a quarter?”
“None.”
“Fair enough,” Sana said, giving him 5 and having to awkwardly await the change.
“Have a nice evening.”
She gave the man a curt nod, and jammed the boots into her bag, noticing that there was little room left.
She’d scarcely made it out of the store before she spotted something of interest in a clothing store, ‘Looks like I’m going to be broke by dawn.’ It wasn’t as well dressed or well put together as the store she’d just visited, but it seemed nice enough. More than anything, however, it was a blouse that struck her eye. ‘I’m sure I can afford to dress a little nicer, right? I can always just do another shift in the kitchens to make up lost earnings… Oh, and only wear my simple clothing on climbs.’ She paused at a fine white shirt, before falling prey to the rest of the store’s garments and clothing. She could scarcely help herself, having already spent a season in her plain frayed, clothing. She exhaled deeply as an attendant came to her, “Have you decided on any wares?”
“Uh, yes.” She said, regretting her day of spending before it was even over. “Could I please have the damasked, linen shirt, and the fine wool, embroidered pants?”
The woman raised an eyebrow, “Is that all today?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“That will be 2.4 and 6.4, coming to a total of 8.8 kina,”
“Here,” she said, clenching her jaw as she brought the clothing. ‘Please don’t have me forget this in the morning’
Sana left the store before she could spend anymore, this time throwing herself into the thick of the wave of people, riding along in the current until the clothing and accessory stores were well and truly out of her reach. ‘I still need ink for writing and inscribing, and a quill… as well as hair ties.’ . She supposed that she must have been about for at least a bell, with the crowds garnering their pre-midnight rest numbers. It was cooler, as well, and as she weaved through the alleys and the seas of people, she pulled her cloak closer as she moved, partly protecting her dwindling supplies of money, partly fending herself from the bite of the breeze. She kept her eyes darting from store to store, already bypassing a dozen elaborate stores with exuberant prices. Her eyes caught sight of a simple set up, and slowly drifted towards it, an array of quills and inks on proud display. ‘Where was this a bell ago?’
She picked up a quill, and carefully studied it, mindful of how many could be brought broken or damaged. Quickly she hailed over the attendant, and ordered a single quill and jar of ink.
“1 kina, 5 ck.”
She gave a curt nod, handing over the coins before spying something of interest. “Is that inscribing paint?”
The man frowned and turned, grabbing the product off the high shelf, “that’ll bring you up to 4 kina, 5 ck.”
Sana didn’t bother speaking that time, she handing him exact change and turned on her heal, mindful not to spill the contents of the ink jar as she briskly made her way back to the respite. ‘This is the last time I go to the markets with a full purse.’
